


L'appel Du Vide.

by secretlyryanross



Category: All Time Low, Bandom, Cobra Starship, Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco, The Academy Is...
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Crack Relationships, Denial of Feelings, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, Drama, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Non-con later on in the fic, Off-screen Relationship(s), Past Relationship(s), Relationship(s), Superpowers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-12
Updated: 2015-05-20
Packaged: 2018-03-12 00:48:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3338003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/secretlyryanross/pseuds/secretlyryanross
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Ryan's parents find out that he had inherited his mothers powers, Ryan hadn't expected it to go any worse than it already did. Shipped out and finding himself in a dorm room with a freak who couldn't handle what Ryan was turned out the worse case scenario. He finds himself in the woes of love, misfortune, confusion, and even a little mystery. </p><p>[Aka the fic where I shamelessly use band names for things that are definitely not those bands.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pencey Preparatory School for Gifted Students.

It all started with a sneeze. Of all things, a sneeze would probably be something you’d least expect. Especially since I’d been so good at hiding what had been found out because of allergies. It pissed me off a little, actually. 

[Ryan Ross. Sophomore at Arma Angeles High School. Mood: Apathetic.]

It was during Thanksgiving last year. My family was all gathered around the table, plates in front of them with neatly placed silverware on both sides. The table was filled with food, a giant turkey right in the middle. I was sat between my Aunt Beth and my Aunt Joy. In front of both of them were my Uncle Tom and Uncle Jim. In front of me was my stuck up younger brother, Spencer, who spent all day today bragging about his power that he’d discovered early last month. Which, honestly, wasn't even that cool. 

“I could totally just put out the fire, rescue the woman, and be pegged as a hero,” I roll my eyes at Spencer’s ramblings, tuning them out in a vain attempt to tend to my aching nose. I really needed to go to the bathroom or something so I could blow my nose. Aunt Joy’s perfume was making it hurt like hell. I glare at her through the corner of my eye. 

“Ryan!” I snap my head up to my mom as she gives me a disapproving look. She’s been on my ass all week for who’s knows why. She’s probably upset because Spencer, my younger brother, has a power and I don’t. She doesn't want me to be a failure, one of the ones who come from two high-class, superhuman parents that didn't get an ability. She always talks about the couple next door and how it must be sad that their daughter didn't get a power. I wish I was like their daughter.

You’re probably wondering what powers my parents had. Mom, well, she’s something extraordinary. She’s light and fire. Most people say that she glows, that her skin is always warm, and that her attitude always seems like it’s on fire. That’s only because most of those things are true. I never really saw the glowing part, myself. 

My dad, on the other hand, was almost the opposite of her. Not ice, but water. Most said that they’d never get on well, that he’d just put her out. Pun intended or not, it wasn't true. My mom and dad have never been as happy as they were when together. People said that before my dad met my mom, he could barely hold a steady stream of water in the air. They said that before mom and dad got married, mom was a ball of fire, ready to explode at any moment. They didn't put each other out, they just kept each other grounded. 

That doesn't mean they didn't fight, though. Oh boy, when they fight it gets crazy. We have to get new curtains almost every 2 months and our floors have multiple burns on them. Those aren't only from mom, though. Our roof has water damage, despite there being nary a leak in it. My parents fight big time when they do fight. Spencer and I usually stay in our rooms. 

Which, speaking of Spencer, he got dads ability. I’d never seen dad as proud as he was when Spencer had dropped a glass of water and simultaneously stopped it in mid-air. It made me slightly jealous. Which, honestly, I shouldn't be. I do have a power that I could reveal at any time, whenever I wanted. I just didn't want to, was the thing. I didn't want a power at all. I felt like if I had a power, I’d be like everyone else in my family. Excluding my late Uncle Gary, who’s the only one in our family tree without a power. I view him as lucky, but according to the bullet fragments found in his head and the gun in his hand at the scene of his suicide, he didn't. 

I got my moms power. Fire control. I have a few burn scars on my fingers from not being careful when I was angry. They’re on my floors too, what looks like cigarette burns is from my fingers. It makes me feel dangerous. It makes me feel like I could do anything. I wouldn't, though. I don’t even want this damn power, why the hell would I use it for more than entertainment? 

Whatever, back to Thanksgiving. My nose was hurting like a bitch and I was sure it was red. I wasn't eating and Spencer was pissing me off with the stupid, made-up stories he was telling aunt Beth. My hands were gripping the forks so hard it’d probably leave a mark. It all happened in a blink. Aunt Joy stood up, excusing herself, and I caught a huge whiff of whatever was in her perfume. The sneeze was fast and I barely felt anything but a relief in the nose. Something was off, though, the room was silent. Everyone was staring at me. 

“What?” I asked looking around and then down at my food. It was burning, on fire. Spencer’s eyes were huge and almost a little jealous. “Shit.” I murmur under my breath. I look over to my mom, expecting her to be pissed, but she just smiles at me. Happy. God fucking dammit. 

The first one to speak up was my dad, “I knew there was something off about the way your eye flashed red sometimes,” he joked, “Looks like we’re gonna have to get you some protective gloves.” I roll my eyes, staring down at my burnt food. Some people laugh, but others just continue to stare at me. I feel like punching them all in the face. 

I tune everyone out, until I hear Beth say my name, “--Ryan could go to the boarding school that my little Christopher goes to.” 

“No, no, he’d go to the school Spencer goes to. Pencey Preparatory School for the Gifted. They are brothers after all...plus, that’s where I met the love of my life.” My mom winks at my dad, a sly smile on her face. Beth visibly deflates, turning away from the conversation. I furrow my eyebrows, but say nothing of it. I think she just wanted to show her son off. 

I definitely had a lot in for me. All because of a fucking sneeze, too.


	2. New Acquaintances.

“Please,” I hush out in a whisper, looking from my mom to the school in front of me, “Please just...don’t make me.” 

“Honey, you have to. It’s according to the law that all gifted children go to gifted schools.” She pets my hair, much to my annoyance. I cringe away, sending a look to Spencer who’s rushing to get his bags out of the car. Spencer’s two grades below me, an 8th grader here at Pencey Prep. It was after break and Spencer was definitely more excited than I was to be going here. He’d gone here before, though. He knew the ropes, unlike me.

I groan, taking the few bags I’d packed and following along Spencer as he wobbled with his own luggage. Behind me I hear my mom and dad yelling at us, “Bye my babies. Have fun. I’ll miss you!” Afterwards I hear an engine start and the smooth sound of rubber against loose pavement. 

[Ryan Ross. Sophomore at Pencey Prep School for the Gifted. Mood: Irritated.]

[Spencer Ross. 8th Grader at Pencey Prep School for the Gifted. Mood: Excited.]

Pencey Prep was a nice, modern looking building on the outside. It had bushes lining the front, outer walls and plenty of windows that looked inviting. The inside was a different deal. It was bland, all greys and tans and blacks. It reminded me slightly of Spencer’s room at home. Well, no wonder Spencer felt at home here.

Upon entrance into Pencey Prep, you see a waiting area lined with perfectly met up chairs, a reception desk, and two staircases. One leading up and one leading down. An elderly woman with greying hair and the biggest crows feet I’ve ever seen on a woman is shuffling through papers at the old, wooden desk. 

“Hey, Mrs. Orzechowski,” The woman looks up at us and smiles, “How was your break?” I furrow my eyebrows at Spencer, giving him a look that would suggest he has two heads. 

[Sarah Orzechowski. Secretary at Pencey Prep School for the Gifted. Age: 55.]

“Ah, Spencer, it was lovely. My grandson came to visit. What a nice boy. He’s about your age, but he doesn’t have any powers--yet, at least.” She sighs, a smile still on her face. Spencer looks like he’s about to ask a question, but she interrupts him, “Oh, nevermind that, though. What can I do for you?”

Spencer clears his throat, “Well, my brother is starting here now and he kinda needs a handbook and his classes and everything.” A sheepish hand makes its way behind Spencer’s neck as he turns to look at me. I glance between him and this old woman--Mrs. Orzechowski. It seems as if she’d just noticed me. 

“Oh, well, hello,” She takes me in and I have no doubt in my mind that she’s wondering how me and Spencer are siblings. Spencer is chubbier, a little on the plushy side as to where I’m thin as a dime. I’ve got dark brown eyes and he has bright blue ones. Not to mention our tastes in almost everything besides music are far from similar. I like vests and skinny jeans and he likes sweat pants and old band tees.

“What’s your name then, deary?” She asks, grabbing a box of tan folders and sliding it towards her. She grabs the glasses from around her neck and puts them on, pushing them up slightly up. 

“Ryan...Ross.” I say uncertainly, glancing at Spencer. 

“I don’t have another Ross that’s under Ryan. The only other Ross I have is a George Ross…” She hmphs.

“That’s my first name, but I--” She cuts me off.

“You go by Ryan, I understand.” She nods, grabbing a paper out of the thin folder and going to scan it. She brings back another piece of paper and hands it to me, followed with a key and a faux-leather notebook. “That’s your class schedule, the key to your room, and a student handbook that is complete with the rules of Pencey Prep and a planner. Your room is right up those stairs,” She points, but then points back at me quickly. I don’t even look away from her. She frowns.

“You’re rooming with a nice boy named Brendon Urie. I don’t have a doubt that the two of you won’t get along.” The piercing look in her dark brown eyes is enough to throw me off center, so I just nod quickly. She smiles again at me, shoo-ing me with a hand, “Go on now. Oh, and Spencer, don’t you get into trouble. I know how much of an influence young Mr. Walker has on you.” She tsks, a coy smile on her face. I notice Spencer visibly relax at that. With a glance at Spencer, I take my bags and the things that Mrs. Orzechowski gave me and bound up the stairs. 

The top of the stairs is definitely different from the main floor. Posters of student council and way past due fall plays litter the walls, stuck in haphazardly. I furrow my eyebrows, wondering how the same place could be so different. Appeal, I guess. 

Searching for my door number, I come to a stop in front of 32B. The marking on my key states the same thing, so I quietly stick the key into the lock and attempt to open it. Only to find it unlocked. Oh yeah! That secretary said I’d have a roommate. Brandon Urie? Or...Brendon. Whatever. I slowly open the door, peering inside to see a mess of fluffy hair sticking out of pure white bed sheets. He’s sleeping. Great.

The first thing I noticed as I stepped into the room was that it was absolutely freezing. It felt too cold to function for me. Shivering, I bring in my bags, sitting them on the spare bed that’s directly across from this boy. The second thing I notice is the frost lining the window sill. Totally normal, right, but...it’s on the inside. No way could it be that cold in here. 

The first thing I didn't notice was the boy waking up. I didn't notice him peering at me as I unpacked my things into an empty dresser located right next to my bed. The walls were a faint blue that matched the bedding nicely as well as the mahogany furniture. Brendon’s side had posters strewn across the walls in a pattern that not even I could recognize. Which is saying something, when you live with Spencer Ross, king of making strange patterns. 

“What’re you doing.” His voice scares me out of my wits, causing me to jump and drop...hairspray. Of course. I cough, eyes wide as I look into his deep brown ones. They’re pretty in a totally manly way. Or whatever. I’m not gay. I may look gay. With my scarves and my makeup and whatnot. I am, however, straight. I like...girls and things.

[Brendon Urie. Sophomore at Pencey Prep School for the Gifted. Ryan’s rating scale: a solid 10, but he’s not gay at all.]

“I’m your roommate,” I rush out, “Ryan Ross.” I awkwardly stick out a hand for him to shake, despite him being still withdrawn under the covers. There’s a visible shake in my hand, from nerves or from the cold is what I couldn't tell. 

“You’re shaking. Nervous?” Brendon’s voice is level, but there’s an edge to it. Like ice. (Later I would look back on that and laugh, because how ironic.)

“No, cold. It’s freezing in here.”

“It’s perfectly warm, is it not?” He sits up, looking me square in the eyes. He raises an eyebrow at my hand, bringing his own up to shake it. He scared me sl--

Sparks. Electric is sent through my body, something as cold as the arctic. If I wasn’t shivering before, then I sure was now. I felt completely drained and Brendon looked about the same. 

“You’re a fire power!” He practically screeches, stepping back and away from me.

“Y-yeah? I a-am.” I stutter out from chattering teeth. He blinks and reaches up to feel his hair. It’s frosted over. He feels like he’s got hypothermia or something.

“I can’t believe this, I can’t--”

“What? You can’t believe--”

“They’d room me with a fire--”

 

“What’s so wrong with being a--”

Brendon stops, “You really don’t know, do you?” He scoffs, looking at me straight in the eyes. His lips, a full as they were, were pressed into a thin line. I finally got a moment to look over him. His eyebrows were furrowed and eyes like stone. The blue tee shirt he was wearing was wrinkled from sleep, dark black skinny jeans similar and low hung on big hips. 

“My ‘power’,” He does air quotes as he says this, “Ice. It comes through my fingertips, my palms. I can feel the chill in my skin. I should have known. No one else ever thinks it’s cold in here, their powers never detect it. Yours do.” He pauses, looking me over.

“You seem a little pale and, dare if I rhyme, pretty frail too. Most of the,” He pauses and then smirks, “hot-heads I know are the exact opposite…” He furrows his eyebrows, looking to be in deep thought. Brendon seems to be proper, talks like he was raised in a family from Great Britain other than one on the west side of Nevada. The way he lifts his eyebrows and cocks his hip makes me seem so much smaller than him.

“What’s your reasoning?” I ask, eyeing him warily. My eyes nervously scatter around his face, looking at his dark, cunning eyes, his big mouth that’s pressed into as thin of a line as it can get probably, and his nose that seems pointed upward with the position of his face. Brendon isn’t taller than me, but he’s not much shorter. He’s the perfect height to…

No.

“I’m not a professor, I’m not here for you to learn. I’m here to be your roommate, as tough as it could be.” There was a twinge of something in his eyes and the way he turned around. I look down at the carpet and notice two burns marks in the shape of palms. Parallel to that I see the exact same, but in blocks of ice forming around the rug. This would be a long, long school year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I wrote this all in English, probably. Sorry if it doesn't make too much sense. Peterick comes in next chapter, I hope I do those two boys justice. Oh well, it's for you to decide. I like the chapter. My goal for this story is to even out everyone's "screen time" or whatever. I'd just like it if I could keep it interesting for all the characters, but I can't promise. This is originally a Ryden story, with bits added in to keep some friends happy and other bits added in for my own personal enjoyment or even so I can thicken the plot slightly. This note has been way to long. Enjoy your day.


	3. Hung on a String.

[Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz III. Junior at Pencey Prep. Mood: Exhausted.]

Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz III (or just Pete Wentz) was a name for royalty. A name that should belong to a king or a knight or a celebrity. Not some teenager who, if he could, would go on estrogen hormones for the hell of it. Not some emo 17 year old who’s in a band that’s going nowhere. Not someone who’s a mutant freak like Pete is. 

Pete found out that he had a ability when he had two hamsters, blinked, and then had one hamster. With two heads. And eight legs. His eyes had went wide and, as much as he tried, he couldn't bring both Calligraphy and Etcher back. (Pete liked exotic names. Hell, Pete liked exotic everything at the age of 11.)

Pencey Prep, at the time, was a school for middle school students and high school students only. An elementary school didn't exist at Pencey. Pete, of course, couldn't have gone to regular school and the only school in Nevada that offered an elementary program for mutants was one on the other side of the state. So, Pete started 6th grade early. (He blames that for why he’s terrible at math.)

It wasn't until 7th grade, though, that the tests that they took every year showed that he had another power. Inherited from his great grandmother, there was a hint of power empathy inside of him. The detection of other peoples powers. He was told it’d grow stronger the more he practiced it, that it’d grow so strong it’d be a more independent power than his power to merge. 

Four years later than he finds himself still attending Pencey. He knows the school like the back of his hand. The places where you can get away with smoking, the places where you can get away with making out, the students that have been there for almost, if not equally as long as he has, and everyone's power. 

Almost everyone's. 

Patrick Vaughn Martin Stumph, or Patrick Stump for short, is a petite, blond headed boy that he couldn't figure out. It was almost as if the fedora that always covered up his golden locks locked out Patrick’s power from Pete’s. 

Patrick Stump was truly an enigma to Pete. He fascinated him, was the center of his interest in his Junior year. Living two rooms down from the petite boy was a blessing and also a curse. He could feel the power radiating through the walls, it was a strong one. Something not to be messed with. Something to not even be reckoned with. He just couldn't figure out what it was to not be reckoned with. It was driving him crazy.

Hanging around the boy all the time didn't seem to help his cause, either. Of course, Patrick knew that Pete had power empathy. The whole school knew Pete had power empathy after one bad situation or another. He also knew how badly the boy wanted to know. It made his head spin. Pete Wentz followed him around. The Pete Wentz. Patrick always feels happy with that thought. 

Pete was kind of a legend to Patrick. Tiny little Patrick, who had only been at the school for two years. Two years was enough for Patrick to learn the reputation that Pete had around the school. Shortly after the blond learned that reputation, though, he had been caught in that reputation. Pete’s fixation.

Each year, Pete had someone he followed around. Someone he was interested in enough to...fixate on them. It was strange at first, but after awhile it felt nice for Patrick to always have Pete around. He was like a missing puzzle piece in Patrick’s life, or something. One of those metaphors that Patrick couldn't quite put together, but Pete sure as hell could. 

During their break, they’d face-timed a lot. Pete had tried to make Patrick blush as much as he could. It turned into a little bit of a game. Pete would flirt with him on and off and that was always what made him blush the most. There was always this little twinge his heart got, even when Pete used his stupidest pick-up lines. It almost hurt, just how badly Patrick wanted Pete to mean it. 

Patrick...well, he thinks he never get that honor. Not when Pete stares at Mikey Way so intently at lunch. Not when he figures out how boring of a power Patrick has. Not even now. Patrick thinks he’s too...bland...for Pete’s tastes. 

He’s definitely Pete’s puppet. Hung on a string, for all but Pete to see.


	4. The Fear of Falling Apart.

Five months prior to Ryan's start at Pencey.

William has always lived life basically alone. He’s always felt alone, been far more pre-occupied in his visions rather than his own life. It felt like forever that he’d dream, dream of people he didn't know. Brendon and Ryan, two strange souls that he had never met before, but he would soon. He’d dream of Pete and Patrick, their relationship. He’d dream of a school by the name of Pencey Prep, something about it being for gifted people. Gifted like William.

The visions seemed to have always been there. From the moment he could remember, William had seen things that happened months or even years in the future. He dreamed of his 11th birthday when he was only 6. He dreamed of his mom and dad getting a divorce when he was 9 and not 2 years later did that become true.

William had waited, waited to see anything about himself. Anything that he was involved in, but it never came. He never saw himself in his visions, never. He saw people talking to each other, people being slammed into lockers, people not being able to control their own powers. It made William angry on several occasions. It made him want to cut them out of his brain. He never wanted to see these people again, he was tired of it.

He was tired of it until his mom realized he had a power. Until his mom decided that he’d get to go to Pencey Prep. It happened when William accidentally wondered aloud when her boyfriend, Tom, would be getting home. She didn't have a boyfriend named Tom, yet. At first she just furrowed her eyebrows, but then she seemed to realize. 

William got her power. 

So there William was, standing in his room at Pencey Prep, wondering why he never saw who his roommate was. Dallon something. He sits on his bed, wishing that he was alone. He hugs his long legs, frowning into them. He never asked for this. He never asked to have a power that confused him this much. He’d been looking around for Brendon all day, or perhaps even Pete. To tell them that he knew them. To maybe let a little of what he’s been knowing about for years out. They’d probably call him a freak. Just like everyone else used to.

“Hello?” William snaps out of his daze, looking at the supposed voice. A tall, brown haired boy stands in front of him. He’s gorgeous, the sun from the window on his left exaggerating it a bit. William didn't even hear the door open, but this boy was suddenly here, in front of him. 

“Um…” William opens his mouth to talk more, but he’s never really been good at conversing. He’s always had a few extra days (years) to be able to think about it. 

“I’m Dallon...although, you might already know that depending on what your power is.” Dallon is charming, his smile bright and his eyes even brighter. He offers a hand to William, helping him off the bed. 

“Precognition.” William says shyly, looking down at his feet and then back up at Dallon. The other boy was a little taller than him, making him wonder what grade he was in. 

“So you do know who I am, huh? Tell me, what am I having for lunch today?” Dallon smiles, searching William’s eyes as if that’ll give him his answer.

“A-actually, uh, I've never seen you in my dreams before…” William blurts out, immediately blushing afterwards.

“Oh,” Dallon wrinkles his nose, “That sucks. It’s funny, actually, no one ever can really sense me or anything. I think it has to do with how unpredictable I am. It’s always up to my power, I guess.” Dallon looks away, a frown on his face, as if he was concentrating on something that wasn't there. 

“What’s your, um, power?” William isn't used to this at all, isn't used to the fact that other people have a ‘power’ like he does. Maybe Dallon has precog too?

“Teleportation.” Dallon rushes out, sharply looking back up at William to get his reaction. William’s emotions are hidden, a blank look on his face. Inside, though, William is a bit impressed. 

“Wow,” William lets out, “That’s cool. So, like, everyone has their own power here? I only really know that Pete has a merging ability and power empathy. Patrick and Brendon don’t really use their powers very much. Oh, and Ry--” William stops himself, knowing that Ryan doesn’t get here until after this semester. 

Dallon is looking at William, but he might as well be looking through him. “You know them?” 

“I've seen them.” William points at his head, smiling widely. His smile fades a bit when he doesn’t get a reaction out of Dallon.

“Wicked.” Dallon says, re-focusing on William. He takes in William’s tiny physique, eyeing his skinny figure and bent posture. William catches on to Dallon’s staring and blushes, looking down at his feet. 

“Well, I should probably, uh,” Dallon looks back up, “Show you around the school, eh?” He shows a dazzling smile, making William’s heart beat just a little faster. 

“Yeah...sounds good.” William nods, glancing back at his unpacked bags once before following Dallon out of their room. He’d better hope this Dallon was one to trust. He’d never seen him, so this was...new. Unexpected and...well, William liked it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Am I leaving these chapters at terrible points? I feel like I am, but it's hard to tell because I have chapters planned in my head. I know all the information, so I'm not being left on a cliff hanger. I'd like some feedback on that, if anyone actually cares.


	5. A Fit Of Fury

Present day.

Being a student at Pencey Prep wasn’t always as easy as it was supposed to be. Every semester an exam was to be taken to determine whether or not you have any unnoticed powers. It was how Pete found out about his power empathy. It was how Frank found out about his superspeed. It was also how some kids got kicked out of the school, or never accepted at all. 

Needless to say, it sent everyones nerves skyrocketing. Pete clung to Patrick more, Brendon went around freezing most things, and Dallon sometimes teleports on accident...into the ladies bathroom. 

However, Ryan wasn’t accustomed to the procedures. So when he was called to the office 2 days after arriving to the school he was more than a little confused. Not to mention the fact that he hadn’t once seen his roommate after their little ‘incident’ or whatever given name it had, besides when they were both called in for curfew. They share a few classes, but those aren’t even in session yet. It was always hard to tell where Brendon had gone to, anyway. 

Ryan had met a few other people at the school, a boy named Pete who he had ran into on his way to breakfast one day. On accident or on purpose, he didn’t know, because Pete seemed to know who he was, which was....creepy, yeah. There was also Patrick, who had seemed pretty nice, other than his insane love for Kanye West’s music. He’d ran into Spencer as well, who seemed pretty pissed at the fact that his brother was now at the school. His friend, Jon, was kinda nice, though. A little on the quiet side, maybe, but nice nonetheless. 

Thinking about the people he had met throughout his first couple of days was all he could do as he waited to go into the office. His nerves were in the sky, gliding somewhere with the birds or hanging with the clouds. So as he sat, he thought that maybe he’d like to be somewhere up there, away from society and freaks like himself. At least, that’d be better than all of this. 

He looks up as a thin looking boy comes out of the office, one arm wrapped around himself and the other massaging his temple. His hair was curly and reached almost to his shoulder, a brown that didn’t exactly catch your eye at first glance. He was as skinny as Ryan was, surprisingly. 

The boy mutters, “Go in, then?” and as he leaves he glances back at Ryan, green eyes squinting at him, almost in familiarity. He didn’t need to be told twice before shakily standing up and walking into the office, shutting the slightly ajar door behind him. 

“George Ross?” A man says from behind his desk, level eyes staring at him. Ryan nods and takes a seat, before correcting him slightly, “I-I go by Ryan.” The man, who Ryan assumed was principal Hall, nodded before writing something down on papers invisible to Ryan’s eye. 

“We’re going to be doing some tests on you,” Mr. Hall stares back at Ryan as Ryan stares at him, “To see if you have any other powers. Also to see how far along your power is right now, it’s all very mandatory.” He waves a hand, shaking his head before standing. “If you’ll follow me?”

Mr. Hall leads Ryan to a room in the back of his office, a metal chair standing eerily in the middle of the room. There’s a monitor that’s black, indicating that it’s off. It reminds Ryan of the dentist, in a way, because of the table sat right next to the chair. There’s also the feel of anxiety in Ryan’s stomach, swirling around and kicking at him. Just like the dentists office.

Principal Hall pulls up a chair, sitting in it and motioning for Ryan to sit in the big metal one. Upon sitting there, Ryan notices the different charts on the walls opposite of the chair and the wires hooked up to the monitor. 

“Just gonna put the on your head, ok?” He attaches the wires with suction-cup like devices to Ryan’s temples. Ryan has to move his hair back slightly for Mr. Hall to attach them and even then his hair covers a portion of the wire. 

Now, this is going to pinch a little.” Ryan furrows his eyebrows, hearing a beep before he feels a slight pinch in his right arm. He looks down, seeing nothing there. He looks back up at principal Hall and grimaces when he feels a wave of nausea. 

He jerks then, tightening his lips in a thin line. A headache makes its way into his skull, biting at the edges of his brain and attaching itself to the middle of his head. He makes a slight noise of discontent. 

“Think about something sad, Ryan.” He says this in a bored way, but he seems to be studying Ryan’s reaction despite it. Ryan can’t help but to think of his own power and how he didn’t want it in the first place. He thinks about the burns on his wrists and his ankles. He thinks about death and alcohol and just everything that’s ever upset him.

“Wow, you must be one sad kid.” Ryan here’s a loud beeping at random, constant volumes. He thinks that it’s a bit rude to say that. “Angry too, huh?” At that Ryan wonders what’s on that screen.

“Okay, okay. I want you to think really hard about fire now.” Ryan does as he’s told, closing his eyes and thinking about stoves and the desert and whatever else he thought of when he thought of fire. “No, think of your fire, Ryan.”

He huffs, squeezing his eyes shut and then thinking of a little pit of fire inside him. He watches as it grows bigger, blazing and hot. Ryan swears he can feel his eyelids heating up. The ball licks at the sides of the dark pit it’s in and as it grows Ryan feels stronger, more powerful. 

He pokes at it, pushing it and turning it as it grows bigger. It seems to be in a fit of fury inside Ryan, spinning and twirling. It’s the prettiest and most enthralling thing that Ryan’s ever seen.

“Ryan, Ryan!” Ryan opens his eyes, startled. He comes face to face with Mr. Hall....and two secretaries. Also his brother. Wait, what? As his eyes opened they were the color of the flames, with black specks of ash in them. Spencer hadn’t ever seen his brother so...light. 

“How long was I…” Ryan looks around, noticing that the posters on the walls were slightly charred and the the wires on his head weren’t there...but the suction cups remained. 

“Mr. Ross, I must say… Even your mother couldn’t set things on fire by just thinking about it.” As Mr. Hall said this, Ryan saw Spencer’s face go from shocked to jealous in a matter of minutes. Ryan struggles for something to say.

“I-I...I didn’t mean to? I didn’t even…?” He trails off, huffing out a sigh and standing up. He takes the suction cups off his face, looking at his feet. 

“I’m afraid we’re not done here, yet, Mr. Ross. Seeing, however, that you fried my machine we’re going to just have to judge from the eye. We’re keeping Spencer here to--”

“I know, to put out the fire. I figured.” Ryan interrupts Mr. Hall, getting a disapproving look in return. 

“It’s for our safety. You know, it’s not often that purebloods like you guys are in the same room with me. Each of you getting both your parents powers is harder than it sounds. Some good genes running through your family.” Ryan rolls his eyes at that. He’s heard it before, back when no one knew of his power. They talked about how spectacular it would be. Not for him. 

“So, let us go on with it.”

Ryan wondered when he’d stop being so important to absolutely everyone.


	6. Walls and Blockage

Gabriel Eduardo Saporta is the most important person in his own world. He’s the A+ amongst a bunch of F’s. He’s the gold in a crowd of silver. Rare and valuable. Which is the exact mindset that makes him a huge dick to everyone he knows. 

“Gabe, please just listen for once.” The guidance counselor always pleaded like that, as if Gabe would actually speak to her. He didn’t even know why he was there, what brought him there. He didn’t need someone to talk to, so why did he go everyday? He gave a weary eye towards Mrs. Smith. 

[Gabe Saporta. Mood: Hesitant. Power: Animal Control. Favorite Color: Green.]

[Ginger Smith. Mood: Annoyed. Power: Persuasion. Occupation: Pencey Prep Guidance Counselor.]

Now it was obvious that Gabe Saporta held something other than animal control to be able to withstand a level 28 persuasionist. What that was, though, wasn’t showing up in the tests that the school gave everyone yearly. Of course, the power was still weak, not growing but not decreasing. If Mrs. Smith could bring him there in the first place, it definitely needed work. What kind of work was beyond her, though. 

“Can I-”

“No, Gabriel.” Mrs. Smith shoots him down before he can even finish his sentence. He slouches in his seat, moodily staring at the wall behind Ginger’s head. Ginger studies him, squinting as she attempts to make him talk. He looks at her, furrowing his eyebrows.

“I’m-I’m not some animal in a-a cage!” He fumes, “Stop studying me, Ginger.” He gazes at her with a certain scrutiny in his eyes. As if their positions have been changed in some way. Ginger straightens up, causing Gabe to scrunch back some more, almost unintentionally. 

“Young man, you will not talk to me in that respect.” She says sternly, foot tapping anxiously against the carpet beneath her desk. Her hand tightens around the pen in her hand as she writes something without looking. There’s a ferocity there when there doesn’t need to be, but she’s fed up with one very idiotic Gabriel Saporta. 

“Can I please just…” He stops as a bell chimes, sneaking a glance at the door. The intercom overhead buzzes just as a voice crackles onto the speaker. 

“Students of Pencey Preparatory, this is your principal speaking. You probably knew that, however, as I definitely don’t sound like Mrs. Orzechowski from the front desk,” There’s a pause and a mumble that can almost be made out as ‘that’s who usually does this stuff, right?’ Gabe always did think that Mrs. Orzechowski was underrated. He leans back in the plastic chair he was seated in from the moment he stepped foot into this hellish office. 

Mr. Hall clears his throat, “Anyway, lets get on with it. This weekend there will be an annual hosting of the third annual club outing. Freshman are required to be there, however Sophomores, Juniors, and Seniors don’t have to attend, but that means you’ll be scheduled into the same clubs as last year. Any new students are required as well, which I know there are some, so step right on up for that.” Mr. Hall takes a breath and you can hear papers crinkling slightly as he flips to another page.

“Power wrestling sign ups will be tomorrow at 4 pm. You’ll be required for a physical in order to audition.” He clears his throat just as the speaker crackles slightly, “Um...that’s i--not, wait, I’d like to see Peter Wentz in my office. Thanks.” The intercom buzzes once more, Gabe chuckling slightly at Pete’s name. He’s always been called down to the office for something or other. 

“Mr. Saporta. Gabriel.” Gabe suddenly feels his mind being pulled at, him reluctantly giving in to it. 

“Yes, Mrs. Smith?” He sits up straight, smiling at her politely. Inside he was screaming at her, cursing and flinging all his insults directly at her mind. 

“Tell me, what’s--”

 

“You!” Gabe breaks free, blinking and standing from his chair. “What the hell! You’re not allowed to...to…”

“Gabriel, sit down please.” She tries to keep her calm, standing up with him but more to calm him than anything. 

“No!” He throws her a look, narrowing his eyes and practically running out of her office. The door slams behind him and as he runs down the hallway he can feel tears stinging at his eyes. It was the first time he’d ever been controlled by anyone, he felt...raped, oh he didn’t know. He didn’t consent that and it might as well have been in his book. 

“To good for this shit…” He stops and leans on a wall, letting tears fall freely. Even when he’s sad he’s a dick and even he knew that. He thought that maybe it was just this facade he put up with. Possibly some sort of alter ego, oh who the fuck even knew anymore. Gabe was fucked up, it was obvious. Obvious by how many power tests he took compared to everyone else, obvious by how he went to therapy, obvious by his tests scores. He felt fucking worthless and that wasn’t even an exaggeration. 

He’d put on a face, though, pretend he didn’t care. Stiffen his posture, maybe. Every now and then all it took was confidence and possibly someone to beat on, but that was it, right? Gabe never got so bad that his own game wasn’t even fun anymore. Never.

There’s a distant chirp of angry birds outside the window, bellowing in small cries that sound similar to Gabe’s own. It was the day before classes were do in session, their schedules being handed out later on in the evening. Students were do to fill the halls at any time, he was sure. So as he finally looks at his surroundings, he realizes that he’s right by the luncheon. It hadn’t always been around the corner from Mrs. Smith’s office, only recently.

Pencey had went under construction a couple of years ago after a kid tore through the main entrance. There had also been tons of element stains, which was about what the new Pencey was beginning to look like. Gabe had seen a frozen fire extinguisher the other day, still on the wall and everything. Brendon Urie was the only boy he knew in the entire school who wasn’t in enough control of his powers to do that. 

The intercom buzzes again, the nasty sound startling Gabe from his thoughts. “All students and faculty please head to the cafeteria. All students and faculty, please.” Gabe gulps, wiping at his eyes, and heading towards the lunch room doors. 

It’d be a long day.


	7. Sneaking Glances.

As all the students began to fill into the lunchroom it was obvious to Ryan that everyone had a place here. He eyed the tables with wide eyes, looking amongst the different people, practically none of which he knew. He spotted Brendon at a table with the boy that he encountered before his power exam. He also saw Patrick and Pete at the table, which he thought that maybe they’d let him sit there.

When he looked back around the room, though, he caught Spencer’s head next to his friend Jon’s and a smaller, raven haired boy. He’d definitely be able to sit there… The thing that changed his mind, though, was an arm wrapping around his shoulders and startling him. 

He looks up, catching a tan face that looks like it’d been caught in the rain. Or that the person had just been crying. 

“Aye, little Ross, yes?” The person has a spanish sounding accent, making Ryan smile. 

“Um, sort of. I’m older…” Ryan brings a hand up to shove his bangs out of his eyes. The person smiles at him, scanning his face. 

“I’m Gabe Saporta, you probably know that, though.” His personality strikes Ryan as a bit pig-ish, but this is the first person who has directly attempted to be friends with him since he’d met Pete and Patrick.

“Uh,” Ryan laughs and just nods up at him. Gabe shows another bright smile and then cocks his head to the side for him to follow. Ryan didn’t really have a choice with a lanky arm wrapped around him. Gabe was really tall, towering over even Ryan, and Ryan definitely wasn’t short. Before he can say anything, he’s being plopped down in a seat and has come face to face with none other than his roommate. 

Brendon looks sour, shooting a glare at Gabe. “What’s the matter, Urie? Jea-”

“No, shut up.” Brendon dismisses Gabe, causing Ryan to furrow his eyebrows. Beside him, Gabe smirks. The other people at the table don’t seem to notice Ryan, glancing at him, but not exactly taking interest. A brown haired boy, the only boy at the table that he hadn’t seen at least once, seems to be staring at him. 

“Um, Gabe?” Ryan looks over to the boy, eyes wide, “Introduce me?” He asks in the smallest, most polite voice he could managed. Ryan wasn’t stupid, he could already tell what kind of person Gabe was, and he was definitely one that didn’t like anything unless it was said nicely. That was Ryan’s very first impression of Gabe. 

“Oh, yeah, sure.” Gabe nods, “Ryan, this is Brendon, Dallon, Pete, Patrick, and, uh…” Gabe stops with his finger pointing to the guy, the one Ryan had encountered outside Mr. Hall’s office. The boy in question looks up, narrowing his eyes at Gabe’s finger. 

“William. You’re Ryan, right?” There’s a glint in William’s eyes, looking as if they’re withholding information. Ryan focuses on that glint as he answers back that, yes, he is Ryan, and yes, it’s nice to meet you William. Unease settles into Ryan’s stomach. 

Then Brendon speaks up, “He knows me, Gabe, are you literally that stupid?”

“Me too!” Pete pipes up and then looks at the blonde on his left, “Pat, too.” He seems proud of himself as he smiles wide at Patrick, adoration basically wafting off him. 

“So, Ryan, you’re an elemental too?” It’s weird how Pete talks to people without looking directly at them, instead focusing on something beside them or even another person. Ryan gets put off by it for a moment, but shakes it off. 

“How’d you…?” Ryan sneaks a glance at Brendon, wondering what he told Pete. What he’d told others, if he told anyone anything.

Pete laughs, touching his nose, “Magic.” Patrick hits him on the arm slightly, shaking his head.

“He has power empathy.” Patrick smiles politely at him, the blonde boy fixing the hat atop his head. Ryan offers the smile back, looking around the table, his eyes falling on Brendon’s. 

“So, Ryan.” Brendon says through gritted teeth, “How do you like Pencey?” His eyes are stony and his fingers are turning blue. The table feels cold all of a sudden. 

Ryan’s fingers heat up, his cheeks following. “Fine, fine. My roommate’s a bit of a dick.” Ryan doesn’t know where his anger is coming from, but he notices his hands growing lighter and watches as it grows up from his wrists to his elbows.

The tension can be cut with a knife, Ryan and Brendon staring each other down. Everyone’s eyes were drawn from their own conversations in attempt to join the feuding roommates’. It’s not long before Brendon stands up, raising his hand up, palm turned outward towards Ryan, but Mr. Hall’s voice interrupts him. 

“Students, please, take your seats,” Ryan immediately blushes, willing himself to calm down. Brendon looks like he’s fuming and next to him Ryan can tell that Gabe has scooted away from him. 

“You’re hot, Ryan.” Ryan feels a cool hand press against his arm. He looks over and notices that William has moved from his spot next to Dallon. 

“Um, thanks?” Ryan is close to just shrugging William’s hand off, not feeling the same towards the boy. 

“No, stupid, your skin.” William looks as if he’s disapproving Ryan’s thoughts and wow, if Ryan had ever wished that someone couldn’t read your mind, it would definitely be now.

“Oh, um, yeah. I get that way. Fire element and all.” Ryan says it awkwardly and can feel eyes on him from all sides. 

“Brendon gets cold.” William says offhandedly, looking over at Brendon. Ryan thinks it’s as if this boy didn’t even see them bickering a few moments ago. 

“Yeah, I know. Keeps our room at, like, negative thirty degrees, I swear.” Ryan doesn’t mean to sound as fond as he does, immediately cringing once all the words had fell out of his mouth. He glances at Brendon to see if he caught it, only to see that Brendon was still fuming and looking down at his hands. 

“Okay, students.” Mr. Hall speaks, now with a mic, causing most of the student body to jump in surprise. “Schedule time. Mrs. Orzechowski will be handing those out!” 

As the secretary began calling names, it’s then that Ryan realizes that his Sophomore year would be a lot different than he thought it would’ve been. 

And Brendon does too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you guys want, I can post the schedules? I won't unless someone says they want me to, soooo...leave a comment about that! The trees want you to.


	8. The Art Of Keeping Up Disappearances and Feral Things.

Ryan had been pretty solitary ever since the handing out of schedules. School was to start in a day and all Ryan wanted to do was sit inside his dorm room and hide from the world. If the world was named Gabe Saporta and wore a bright purple hoodie.

Gabe hadn’t left Ryan alone, claiming him as his ‘new best friend’ in the boy's own words. It was almost creepy and, honestly, Ryan would prefer to hang out with Brendon, who would make the room freezing and glare at Ryan, than even have to talk to Gabe again.

So he was stuck in his room, staring at the ceiling above him and internally wishing that someone would break into his room and make idle conversation with him. Or kill him. Ryan blinks rapidly at the morbid thought, seeing lights behind his eyelids every time they close. It was nearing midnight and Ryan was growing more tired as he sat and waited for something to happen.

“Are you moping?” The voice startles Ryan, causing him to sit up and hit his foot on the bottom of his bedpost. He comes face to face with the one person he really, really didn’t wanna see at the moment.

“My door was locked!” Ryan practically yells, “I could’ve been naked! How’d you get in?”

Gabe smiles, “Boy, I wish you were naked.” He looks to the side, as if he were imagining that, “Your door wasn’t locked?” He says as if forgetting what he’d just admitted to.

Ryan’s eyes are wide, cheeks red. He decides to ignore that first quip as well. “Gabe! My door was locked, I…” Ryan chooses his next words carefully, not wanting to say he meant to lock it. “I made sure, because I thought someone was following me back to my dorm.”

“Well,” Gabe says, looking Ryan straight in the eyes, “I was.” He moves forward, sitting down on Ryan’s bed. Ryan moves his legs in, wrapping his arms around the lanky appendages.

“Yeah…” Ryan says, scooting himself into the corner of his bed. He felt more uncomfortable than he ever had before with Gabe staring him down.

“So, this is romantic, isn’t it?” Gabe says, smiling widely at Ryan. Ryan furrows his eyebrows, chancing a look around the room.

“Um, it’s my...my bedroom.”

“Yeah, romantic…” Gabe says, scooting even closer to Ryan, “Anything could happen.”

“Nothing will happen.” Ryan shoots him down, eyes going wide at Gabe’s insinuations. Gabe’s eyes go dark and he gets even closer to Ryan, if even possible.

“Come on, little Ross.” Gabe smiles, bringing a hand up to rest on Ryan’s face, “You know you want this.”

Ryan tries to shove him away, but he’s not strong enough. Gabe is closing in on him, face getting closer to the younger boy’s own, breath smelling of coffee and mint. Ryan turns his head, but Gabe moves it back and at this point, Ryan is really, very scared.

He’s not gonna lie, he’s never been kissed before. He was only 16 and his mother had always warned him about things that had to do with...well, anything sexual. She told him about the harms of everything way before school ever did. She told him how it can not only affect your body, but depending on the other person's power, it could affect your own power.

Ryan didn’t know what Gabe’s power was.

“Gabe!” Ryan opens his tightly shut eyes to a voice that wasn’t his nor Gabe’s. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Ryan’s breathing his uneven, cheeks wet. He hadn’t realized he’d been crying. Great. He tries to see over Gabe, to see who the voice belonged to. It was familiar, but not familiar enough.

“Brendon!” Gabe scatters off of Ryan, blushing deeply. Ryan’s question is answered. “Uh, we were just…”

“You mean you were just.” Brendon looks peeved, eyes narrowed in a condescending manner. Ryan could sigh in relief. Not really in the fact that it was Brendon who stopped it, but just in the fact that someone stopped it.

Gabe looks like he’s about to say something, but he just shakes his head and quickly exits the room, pushing past Brendon in a gust of embarrassment.

“Thank-”

“Don’t thank me,” Brendon interrupts Ryan, sending him a glare that doesn’t even come close to being as mean as the one Brendon was sending Gabe, “You shouldn’t have to...and you should’ve been screaming instead of crying.” The darker haired boy sends him a wary glance and begins to, what Ryan thinks is, get ready for bed.

The boy does his best not to watch as Brendon gets undressed, instead focusing on wiping his face off and recollecting himself.

“Goodnight.” Ryan says as he does so, chancing a look at his roommate. The lights flick off and Ryan is covered in darkness as he hears Brendon respond.

And Ryan. Well, Ryan learned not to wish for someone to break into his room ever again.

\--

It’s the next morning that Ryan’s head is finally sent into downward spirals. An unfamiliar alarm blares in his ears, blasting some song by Blink-182 that he couldn’t remember the name of. His hazel eyes blink open rapidly, sleep crust collecting at the corner of his eyes. A yawn escapes from his mouth that’s barely heard through the loudness of the alarm.

He recognizes it as Brendon’s, looking across the room at a phone that seems to be vibrating so violently it could fall off the table at any second. The sun shining in from the open window is bright and Ryan makes a mental note to never go to bed anymore without closing them, because as light as it is, he also feels a cold chill run down his back.

“Please leave before I die from sweating out my vital organs.” Brendon’s voice startles him just like it did last night and as he comes face to...torso...with the aforementioned boy, he realizes that he must have already been awake. He watches as Brendon walks away to turn off the alarm.

Ryan has to bend his neck to look at Brendon’s face, but he sees that the boy already has his hair done and everything. “I need to get ready, why don’t you leave?”

“I’m waiting for Pete and Patrick.”

“Well, you do that, but I’m not leaving.” Ryan frowns, throwing his covers back in a fit of confidence. Brendon’s eyes shoot down to Ryan’s bare legs, the shorts that the older boy is wearing being rather revealing. It was only for a split second, but Ryan noticed anyway.

Brendon sighs and walks with a flourish straight out the door of their shared room. Ryan smiles, accepting the fact that he won that argument. He stands, bones cracking as he does so, protesting against the quick movement. He’d not given much thought to what time it could actually be or to where his classrooms were. Nor had he gave much thought to what he’d wear this morning.

It ended up being only 6:10 as Ryan tugged on black jeans and a green v-neck, the first items he’d spotted in his drawers. Their room was nice, coming not only with a temperamental roommate, but with two dressers on either sides of Brendon and his beds. There was a built in bathroom with a small shower, which both Ryan and Brendon had haphazardly filled with their different toiletries.

To say the least, Ryan had thought he’d be unhappy with the living arrangements the most, when in reality, it’s absolutely everything else he’s unhappy with about Pencey. It’s like his mother dropped him off at a school for crazy people...he didn’t have a clue how Spencer even liked it here. It was probably that Jon kid, Ryan thinks, it’s always people that make Spencer like things.

Without brushing his teeth or his hair, Ryan decides that maybe he should stop stalling and look around for his first period class. Meditation. He grabs his wallet and his phone before heading out of his dorm, suddenly met by an array of students. It’s like a zoo outside, different people with different powers acting like wild animals. He spots Brendon easily, looking at his laid back posture as he talks to a girl with fiery orange hair.

“Ryan!” Ryan winces at his name, turning to greet the one and only Gabe Saporta.

“Gabe!” Ryan says with fake enthusiasm, looking down at his shoes. After yesterday, Ryan really didn’t know if he wanted to be around the boy.

“Look, I feel...like, super bad, ya’ know. About last night…” Gabe gives Ryan a smile, but it doesn’t meet his eyes, “So I got you a gift!”

Ryan looks up in confusion, almost disbelief, “A gift?” He asks, looking around Gabe to see where it could be.

“Yep!” At that, Gabe whistles steadily and the sound of a dog barking is heard. The aforementioned puppy slowly comes into view, tail wagging happily. The chain hanging from around its neck is noisy, but no one really seems to notice the brown and white animal come in.

“A...you got me a dog?” Ryan looks at the dog, eyebrows furrowed.

“Yes!” Gabe declares happily, “Don’t you like her? I named her Hobo, but...I mean, if you want to rename her, I guess you can…"

Ryan just looks at him blankly, “You...you really, legitimately, got me a dog?” Hobo yaps, sitting down in front of Ryan and looking up at him expectantly.

“Yeah, Ryan, I just said that.” Gabe says, smiling in an embarrassed way, and looking around, “Are you slow?” Gabe whispers, but it’s still loud enough for anyone who was listening in on their conversation to hear.

“No!” Ryan exclaims, not taking his eyes off Hobo. “Thank you and everything, Gabe, but I cannot accept...um, your dog.”

“Your dog.” Gabe corrects, smiling.

“My dog.” Ryan instinctively corrects himself after Gabe did. He looks up quickly, “Wait-"

“Aha! You said it, Ry, Hobo is your puppy now.” Gabe smiles and bends down to scoop up the puppy in his hands, “Say hi to Ryan, Hobo, he’s your new owner.”

“I-” Ryan says, looking at Gabe and ultimately sighing, “I’ll ask Brendon about it.” He gives in, but he still can’t bring himself to forgive Gabe. I mean, who the hell makes a move on you like that, it’s weird. Plus, Gabe is acting too nice for his own good now, it makes Ryan feel like he’s up to something.

“Good!” Gabe shoves Hobo at Ryan, making the boy scramble to get ahold of the beagle. “Anyway, now that I got you a dog…” Gabe starts, then he smiles wickedly, “You owe me, Ross.”

There was the catch.

“I? What!” Ryan backs away, but Gabe follows him.

“Yeah, babe. You can’t get away with not getting me something. I request…” Gabe pauses, stepping close to Ryan, “A kiss upon thy lips.” Which, yeah, Ryan should’ve seen that coming. He turns his face to the side just in time for Gabe to only kiss his cheek, leaving behind a little spit when he comes back from it.

“Oh, come on, Ry.”

“Uh, Gabe?” A voice sounds from behind the taller boy.

“Not now.” Gabe doesn’t even look back at the voice, leaning in for another attempt at a kiss.

“Gabe.”

“I said not now!”

“GABRIEL!” Gabe sighs, whipping his head back to see the one and only William Beckett.

“Oh, um...William, right?” Gabe steps away from Ryan awkwardly, bringing a sheepish hand to the back of his neck.

“Yes.” William nods curtly, not speaking a word after.

“Um...what’s up?” Gabe asks, obviously wanting to go back to his previous activities.

“I told Ryan I’d walk him to class…” William smiles, eyeing Gabe up and down. The boy wasn’t unattractive, but his personality was more than a little overbearing. William knew that already, though.  

“Oh, really? Well, can I come with?” Gabe asks, giving his most charming smile to William.

“No, sorry.” The lanky boy responds and shrugs, grabbing Ryan by the shoulder and dragging him along the path to their first period class.

“Um, William. You never promised to walk me to class…” Ryan says once they’re both out of range of Gabe’s hearing. He’s surprised the boy didn’t try to follow them.

“I didn’t?” William asks, looking at Ryan in a confused manner. “I was supposed to...or is that supposed to be on Wednesday? Or maybe it was a different period…?” William stops in his steps, looking at Ryan curiously. “This wasn’t supposed to happen…”

“Um?” Ryan offers, still cradling Hobo in his hands. The dog seems sad for some reason and it honestly freaks Ryan out more than anything. He felt weird, like this dog was somehow a symbolization of Gabe…

“This is not good. No way, no way.” William runs a hand through his hair, long fingers tangling in the mess. “How could this hap--wait, is that a dog?”

“Yes? Gabe’s stupid trick dog. Her name is Hobo.” Ryan explains easily, looking down at the dog and scratching her head.

“I’ve never seen that dog...first Dallon, then the dog, what's next?” William was talking gibberish to Ryan, but at least he was better than Gabe and all his creepiness.

“William, class. Remember? Meditation.” Ryan sighs, looking around at the dorm. They were two buildings away from where classes were held and Ryan was pretty sure they’d be late no matter what.

“Oh, yes!” William says as if he’s thinking a mile a minute, which Ryan really did not doubt whatsoever. “What are you going to do about the dog, though?”

“Um...can I keep him in your dorm for a little bit? I still have to ask Brendon and everything.” Ryan looks pleading and William can’t help but agree, swiftly grabbing the dog from Ryan. “This way."

William walks too fast for Ryan, who is still tired because of the early morning. He couldn’t manage to get to sleep last night, barely dreaming when he did. He remembers seeing Brendon yelling, but not much other than that. It was weird, the way he couldn’t get him out of his head. No matter what, it was like Brendon was a fever and he couldn’t sweat it him out.

“I’m right here. I think Dallon is in class at the moment…” William fiddles with the lock, opening it quickly. He walks in, looking around to find Dallon before sitting the dog down on his own bunk. “Stay.” He pats Hobo on the head just as Ryan catches up to him.

“You walk really fa-”

“Yeah, I know, I do everything really fast. I don’t have time for anything, but I have time for everything.” William pauses, but it’s brief, “Don’t ask.” He waves a finger at Ryan, eyebrows raising playfully, before he looks down at the watch on the hand he had raised.

“Oh, God, we’d better go. Meditation time!” He grabs Ryan by the wrist, kicking the door closed on his way out, and dragging Ryan all the way to class.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo...I'm sorry I made Gabe such a creeper, but it's for good reason! Don't hate me! (Also, no, I'm not gonna make Ryan/Gabe a thing, it's just something to do with Gabe's plot.)
> 
> Feedback would be nice! What do you wanna see from this story and the likes? Thanks! The tree's will be happy and the sky bright if you do! c:


End file.
